In Sydney for the 2000 Olympics, we would use their splendid public bus system to go anywhere.The Saturday morning the games began, we needed to take the 9.12, which passed a block from the house we rented.We missed it and missed the beginning of the swimming because my Venezuelan family got up late, ate breakfast slowly, dressed at their leisure and insisted that the bus would "not be on time', and if so, "tell it to wait, we coming."
So we all missed the bus, which took off despite my wife's plea to wait please, "Look, they coming!"That public bus service impressed us so much. We got to know the drivers well. And they us. They seemed to know everybody.They knew where everybody got on and everybody got off. They seemed to go out of their way to help anybody, as long as it was within the boundaries of civic duty.
They did this naturally, without huffing and puffing. They seemed to consider themselves part of the community and their job was to assist other people like themselves who were part of their community.In Sydney, there was no feeling that "I from Westmooring so I better than you, you from Carenage." Or "you better than me because your hair naturally straight." Or, "I am ah doctor so I should see the manager before you."
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